oasislogs | Log; Catchall

Entry tags:

Log; Catchall

WHO: Castiel and you
WHERE: Warehouse (and city)
WHEN: April (First prompt before the spam and cheese delivery, otherwise any time in april)
WARNINGS: none as of yet
SUMMARY: Catchall log for april

Food was getting desperate. Castiel was aware of it, even with their dwindling group. People needed to eat, not that Castiel was much of a hunter himself. He felt too kindly for the little animals in the forest. Instead, he gathered nuts and berries, and dug up yucca root from the forest floor, looking apologetically around at the strips of drying meat. Poor Bambi.

He wouldn't mind help sorting the nuts, but, of course, someone might get hungry just watching him, and he's a little softer about handling rations than everyone else. He can always go looking for more, no matter how Daryl might feel about their only healer endangering himself, so there's no point in anyone starving themselves.

---

Humans were always getting injured, Castiel lamented. Of course, the situation was exacerbated by this place, which seemed to have had all its edges sharpened to a point. Here, a piece of barbed wire would mean certain death from toxic shock. There were plants and animals in the forest with poisons in their skin, and teeth, and tails. And then there were the deeper infections, illnesses, and things that sank deeper, took longer to make their purposes known.

Castiel still found healing an uncomfortable thing, strangely intimate, but it was the least that he was still good for. He had fashioned his "room" in the warehouse, carved into an L-shape of nailed together crates, to give his patients a little privacy, and filled it with anything soft he could find--anything that was spare, chunks of broken foam mattresses and styrofoam shapes, among other things. It wasn't much of a doctor's office...more like a nest, really.

---

Out in the streets, life was even more risky, though the streets were much quieter now. Most of the slippery walkers had been killed, but the cannibals were still there, some of them, the sneakier, cleverer ones. Castiel wasn't here for himself; he'd seen another person leaving, and rather than let them wander the city streets alone, he'd followed them without thinking. They'd only find themselves in trouble, out there.

Perhaps if he just spoke to them...

---

Or write your own!

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Daryl darted quietly from the safety of one building to the next. He'd gone out to check the perimeter and had spotted one of those cannibals nosing around a sewer grate. The man had been unable to get it open, likely a result of the long rain and problems to the street and foundations caused by it, and eventually started off toward another part of the city. Daryl figured he was looking for another entrance into the catacombs and since Daryl knew they needed to close as many of those off as possible (and hadn't manged to yet), he'd just set off to track the man back to his hole in the ground.

This led him a lot further out from the warehouse than he'd been planning. He had also missed the Angel tailing him for the first part of the trip. Though by the time the cannibal made it to an entrance that did open for him, Daryl was aware he had someone following him. With that in mind, Daryl hid himself and waited for his stalker to show up, bow in position to fire if whoever it was ended up being a threat.

Castiel was good at staying invisible, when he wanted to be--but tracking Daryl meant crossing some difficult ground, and he wasn't the best at clamboring. There were much more spry people in the group than the angel, who generally relied on the power of his flight to move to higher ground, to save time.

He ruffled his wings, frowning, when Daryl disappeared out of sight. It wouldn't do if the man got himself killed; he was the glue holding this place together, whether he was willing to accept it or not.

He didn't realize it was an ambush, not until, stepping past two long rusted cars, he literally moved into Daryl's line of sight.

The spike tip on the arrow was only a foot from Castiel's face when he came into sight. Daryl's mouth tightened into a line before he dropped the weapon and settled on glaring at the man.

"What're you doing?" he growled out, moving to step around his friend and make sure the coast was still clear of both cannibals and walkers. "Almost shot you in the head."

"You couldn't have hurt me with that," he answered, softly. "Not that you would have. I have spent many years, now, with hunters like you, and none of them have ever fired their weapon if they didn't mean it; certainly not without identifying their target first."

Calm enough. He was still and quiet, angling his head up to listen, before stepping ahead. "The creature you were following is this way."

"Ain't the point," he muttered to the first comment. So what if he couldn't have hurt Castiel? He didn't like the idea he could have released an arrow into the man's face. Shooting his friends was not a mental image that set well with him.

"I know where it is," he snapped, keeping his voice down. He started a shallow circle of pacing, eyes scanning the area around them. "It went to ground, found a way into the catacombs under the city. Need to seal it off."

Then the sound of gravel settling reached Daryl and he went stock still. That wasn't from the cannibal he'd been following. It was closer, and with his own breathing and heart beating in his ears, he couldn't tell if it was a walker or a stray animal moving through the ruins.

"You see anything?"

Castiel froze midstep, just as Daryl did, listening intently. There was something very close to them; something that Castiel had overlooked, stalking them, perhaps. He tilted his head back toward Daryl, not moving at all; not breathing.

"I see nothing. But we shouldn't wait to be ambushed. We should draw whatever it is out into the open, if it will follow us. There's a schoolyard further on to our left, and I believe - as I am not armed - that I make a better target. Perhaps you can find somewhere high, from which to cover me?"

Daryl's lip curled and he forced himself to consider the strategy instead of rejecting it outright. Castiel was 'unarmed' but could call that blade of his in existence at any time. And if shit really hit the fan, he could do that popping in and out thing of his. Get away quick.

"Wait to a count of five, then head over. You hear me yell at you to run, you fly your ass back to me. You can do it if it ain't far, right?"

"Yes, I can do it if it isn't far."

Castiel had to admit, there was something of a note of relief in his voice. Daryl was controlling, if only because he was protective, and somehow Castiel had found himself under that umbrella, protected despite his usual disinterest in it. He had become Dean's ward, in Purgatory, against his own wisdom, and it seemed to him that there was a distinct lack of interest in what he wanted.

If he could do this right, then perhaps one more increment toward respect would be earned. It was symbolic, already, of how much of Daryl's trust he'd earned so far.

Castiel nodded, and waited, his every sense tuned past the gentle patter of the rain. He waited until five seconds had passed precisely, and then stepped ahead, making his way forward, then turning into the open space. Whatever it was, it was following him. Good.

Daryl started up the wall nearest to them, using the holes formed of cracks and fallen bricks as soon as Castiel said 'yes'. He wasn't quiet to the roof when the count of five was up, but he was by the time the other man made a decent way into the open space. Whatever it was that was following didn't seem to be after Daryl. At least not that he could see.

He crouched low along the edge of the roof. He distance between himself and Castiel wasn't good. He could probably hit whatever came, but he wasn't sure his arrow would have enough power to take a threat down in one shot. Still, he had to be ready to try.

It took another couple breaths before Daryl spotted what had been following them. One of the runners. Too smart and too decomposed to be anything else. It was mirroring Castiel's progress, but keeping to the protection of the nearby cars while it figured out the best way to hit it's prey.

Daryl took advantage of the earpieces, muttering a soft 'Private line to Castiel' before speaking in a low tone to his friend, "Runner. On your left. Five yards. Back passenger wheel of the red sedan and moving to the front. Can't get a good line on it. See if you can move it back towards me some."

Upon her arrival Carol had kept very much to herself, which wasn’t like her at all. She needed sometime to take in this new place, a place that was very much like back home but yet it wasn’t home. This place had new dangers, new things to be cautious of and she didn’t even want to begin to think how Beth could be here after she witnessed the poor girl’s death. There was so many questions to be asked, so many things to ponder but Carol pushed it to the back of her mind and engaged herself. Putting on a mask for these people, pretending to be both helpless and innocent was something she was very talented at.

She had been taking her time trying to get to know some of these people Daryl kept going on about, keeping up her friendly and active face as she secretly people watched and listened. It helped keep her at ease, kept her cautious.

Food was getting more desperate by the day but Carol had been working her magic with what nuts and berries that had been found, it wasn’t much but she was able to make the portions work. She had taken more time to gather more water, even if it had been constantly raining one could never get enough water and that was something she didn’t want them to get low on, food was bad enough.

She was gathering the last of the water while she made a quick note of how low food had gotten that day, it was enough to make her sigh slightly. Still a small smile formed along her face at the sight of more water, at least that was a bit of an accomplishment.

She noticed a shadow out of the corner of her eye. "Water?" she askes softly. "It's fresh."

"Thank you," he murmured, tilting his head down toward her as he edged closer. She was a new arrival, another of Daryl's group, and Castiel hadn't had a chance to speak to her yet. He wondered whether she knew what he was yet, but if Daryl hadn't warned him to tread carefully, it was fair to assume that, perhaps, he didn't have to. Well--no more carefully than he had with Daryl himself, at least, and that could have gone better.

So he shook his head. "It's not necessary. I don't need to drink."

And he stepped forward, instead laying the small basket of nuts down in front of her.

"The heavy rain will provide us with a good crop, later in the year, but I'm afraid for the time being, it's only making the fruit fall, and rot." He tipped his head. "But the bees think that the rain will stop soon. It's only a matter of time."

Castiel was someone that Daryl seemed to speak rather highly up but he really didn't give much away about the one before. All Carol knew was that Daryl seemed to trust him and trust was something that was very hard to come by when it came to Daryl. That in itself should have been enough but Carol was still threading with caution even though she was hiding behind a kind and gentle smile towards everyone.

"Ohhh, come on. We've got plenty"she insisted before her eyes widen slightly in delight at the sight of more nuts.

"I'm sure I can work with portions a bit more but food is only becomin less" she replied before she raised her eyebrows slightly before she chuckled.

"I didn't know bees were forecasters?" she teased lowly.

He didn't answer her, when she insisted, but he accepted the bottle of water anyway, his eyes hanging on it for a moment. Slowly he came to kneel down on the ground, where she had been settled before, working on the rations.

"Bees are...wiser than people give them credit for. They dance to communicate, so they must be forthright, which given the lack of directness in human conversation I find refreshing."

So maybe he liked the company of bees better than people; that really wasn't his fault. He was just a little traumatized in his own right, like everyone else.

He placed the unopened bottle down in front of him, and looked up at her again. "You're Carol, aren't you? I'm Castiel."

Carol kept her eyebrows raised as he went on about the bees. She found it rather odd that he seemed to know a lot about them but that was something she didn't voice. No matter how odd she found it to be. Instead she just nodded her head a little.

"You must bee an expert on bees?" she smiled gently before she glanced back down at the nuts he haf brought.

The mention of her name made her glance back over at him, one of her oh so famous gentle and innocent smiles forming along her lips. "Mhmm"she beamed softly.

Once he mentioned his own name, she made her eyes light up in interest. "So you're Castiel? Daryl has mentioned you a good time or two. It's a pleasure."

He was a little odd, true. But no more than anyone else he'd met here. They all had their odd little quirks, and he wasn't unkind about any of them. He ducked his head slightly at her joke, smiling into the collar of his blue shirt. The clothes he'd worn out of the asylum, and all the way through his time in Purgatory, a light blue outfit befitting someone hospitalized, topped with his own tan overcoat. Along with his beard and tousled hair, he couldn't look much more shabby and strange.

So it perhaps put across a certain impression - like maybe he was insane - when he asked his next question.

"Then he told you that I was an angel?" he asked, uncertainly.

Carol didn't mind the oddness. Honestly she found it rather refreshing because odd was a rare thing to come by back where she was from. Odd had faded out it seemed, along with many other things. One could say her world was slowly dying and was just becoming fuller of death, destruction and evil.

She had begun to scoop up a few nuts in het hand to look them over and later she could count them to see how she could devide them out for everyone. His next comment caught her a little off guard, enough to make her head jerk towards his direction.

An angel?

Carol wasn't much on faith, at least not anymore. Not after all she had lost, all she had done. His comment was enough to make her body go stiff, her stomach cringe slightly but she kept her innocent Betty homemaker composure.

After a moment she just burst into a little laugh. "Excuse me?"

Castiel felt her sudden uncertainty, and his eyes stayed soft and pliant, even though he was more than wary. She covered it, but Castiel knew how she felt. He flicked his eyes away, off toward where Daryl was, elsewhere in the warehouse.

"An angel," he said again, a little more softly this time. He turned back toward him.

"A seraph, actually." He relaxed his tone, and reached out toward the basket of nuts, taking one of them out and turning it thoughtfully in his hand. He hated aggression, conflict, and he was determined to avoid it. Staring holes in the nut as though it could swallow him up.

"Daryl didn't believe me either. He was angry; angrier when I showed him irrefutable proof."

Carol just kept her eyes on the man before her. It was as if she were waiting, waiting to see if she needed to make the sudden move to attack because what he was telling her just sounded like pure insanity and she had her fair share of that back home. Personally hearing that he was an angel, a gift from heaven should have came as a relief after dealing with murderious humans, walkers and so forth.

Only Carol didn't have much faith in God or his little angels. Sure she had prayed to God many of times, mostly when her daughter went missing but prayers done nothing but gave her a dead daughter and God sure as hell didn't help when it came to her having to kill innocent people, like a little girl.

This time she laughed a little half heartily. "I'm sorry but umm are you insane? "

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Log; Catchall

Streets - Because Daryl can never follow his own advice

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Warehouse

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